


Completion

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dorks in Love, Hand Jobs, I hope y'all thirsty bitches are happy now, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Keith, So many f-bombs, Swearing, bad language words, because people asked, just kidding I love my readers, keith has a potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9531512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Keith's supposed to be teaching Lance how to break holds. Lance has other ideas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \- Barely edited. I did do a readout though, so I think I deserve some credit for that. (Thankfully, no one was home.)
> 
> \- Shout-out to [Libellule](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Libellule/pseuds/Libellule) and the random anon who came to my Tumblr asking for klance smut/pwp. 
> 
> \- Not technically part of [Connection-verse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/588535), but it'd fit in with it super easily. If you want to headcanon it as being part of that universe, GO FOR IT.  
> ============================

            Keith smirked as Lance just laid there. “Well?”

            “I’m trying,” he insisted. Keith felt the muscles in Lance’s arms strain against him. He didn’t even have to readjust.

            “Are you? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t seem like it.”

            “Shut it, Mullet.” Lance strained again.

            “If you were thinking straight, you’d be out of this hold already. Stop lying or start trying.”

            Lance rolled his eyes. “Oh jeeze, got any more motivational poster sayings?”

            “Aren’t you glad we’re _not_ doing this in the training deck?” Keith asked with a smirk. They were in his room, on his bed. Keith had pinned Lance to the mattress and was waiting expectantly.

            “Well, the mattress is comfier, I’ll admit.” He jerked his arms to no avail. “But I might need a harder surface beneath me to actually break the hold.”

            “Excuses, excuses.”

            “It’s not an excuse! It’s the truth!”

            Keith snorted. “Just admit you can’t break free. Then I’ll let you up.”

            “NEVER!” Lance twitched again, a full-body attempt to buck Keith off.

            Keith hissed as Lance’s groin rubbed against his. It was brief, and not enough to get him hard, but there was that part of him that said _alone with boyfriend + in bedroom + on bed + on top of him = _______ and that was before the rubbing.

            The whole point of doing this here was so that no one would accuse them of public displays of affection/indecency. It _was_ a hold exercise. Keith had done this with Shiro probably a hundred times back at the Garrison. It was training. But they both knew they’d be in for a world of teasing if “caught” like this, so Keith had suggested someplace more private (and comfier).

            Lance narrowed his eyes and rutted his hips up again. “Knock it off,” Keith told him.

            “Whyyyyy?” he asked like an innocent (and annoying) child.

            Keith frowned down at him. “This is a training exercise. You need to learn how to break a pin like this.”

            “I know how to break this pin.” He did it again, slower this time.

            “You’re not usually going to be using this against me,” Keith reminded him.

            “Well, maybe it will work on whoever else has me pinned, too.”

            Keith narrowed his eyes at him. “Not funny.”

            “Who was being funny? We know I’m irresistible, after all. Why not use every weapon in my arsenal, hm?”

            “Because…”

            “Because what?” Lance challenged, and slid his crotch against Keith’s again.

            Keith was at a loss for words even without Lance being distracting. “…because I say so.”

            “That’s not much of a reason.”

            “YES, IT IS!” he yelled suddenly.

            Lance stopped everything he was doing. “Keith. Keith, I’m just joking.”

            “Don’t. Not about this.” He dropped his head to Lance’s shoulder.

            A gentle torrent of softly-spoken Spanish brushed over his skin. “Mi novio,” Lance whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He felt his lips press against his cheek.

            Keith raised his head again to smile faintly at Lance, to show he was okay… and then Lance bucked his hips up against him again. “GODDAMMIT, LANCE, I SWEAR TO…”

            “Language.”

            “What, ‘goddammit’? For fuck’s sake…”

            “It’s taking the Lord’s name in vain. Mi abuela would _murder_ you. You have to learn to stop doing that before you meet her.”

            “Well, she’s not here right now, so GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT, LANCE!”

            Because Lance had just done it again, slowly grinding his hips against Keith’s. “You like it.”

            Keith just looked out into the room rather than answer.

            “You should dance. It’s good for the hips. And legs. And lots of other parts.”

            He looked back to his captive boyfriend. “You need to focus up and take this seriously.”

            “I’ve decided to take something else seriously instead.” Keith sucked in another breath as Lance _undulated_ beneath him.

            “Fuck. You’re too distracting.”

            “Make me stop then.”

            “This is supposed to be about you breaking free from my hold.”

            “Stick in the mud,” he teased Keith. “Stick in the MULLET.”

            “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

            Lance undulated again and punctuated it by languidly rubbing one of his long legs along Keith’s.

            “Nn. Stop.”

            “Maaaaaaaake meeeeee,” he sing-songed quietly.

            He launched down to catch hold of Lance’s lips with his own. He was met with eager participation, and just as he was about to congratulate himself on his victory, Lance _ground_ his hips against his, hard. He broke away to moan, and Lance grinned in triumph.

            Two could play this game.

            He moved to Lance’s throat, knowing the exact spots that drove his lover mad. He lapped at his pulse, blew on wet skin to raise shivers, and nipped at his flesh. Lance reacted to every gesture with his usual happy whimpers and moans… and then thrust his hips up against Keith’s again.

            He slid his hands up under Lance’s shirt, intending to tickle him into stopping. Somehow, that intention was abandoned as he gave in – as usual – to sliding his hands over his skin, so soft over firm, lean muscles. Touching Lance like this always made him hungry for more. More skin, more touches, more kisses and moans. Keith wanted more tactile reminders that Lance was his.

            He exhaled harshly as Lance’s hips ground against him. “That’s it,” he growled, voice low. He put his hands on Lance’s shoulders and pushed himself up to glare down at him. Lance was just smirking up at him, sure of his victory. “I need you. NOW.”

            Lance reached up for him, but Keith rolled off and started unzipping his fly. “Uh, wait. What’re you doing?” Lance propped himself up on his elbows, brow drawn in and a frown starting.

            “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting my pants off.” He shoved his pants down his legs, then rolled back over, catching hold of Lance’s face to press a searing kiss against his lips. He tugged his lower lip with his teeth before telling him, “I need you inside me so badly.”

            Lance blinked a little. Horny or not, Keith mentally chalked up one for himself for throwing Lance’s expectations. “I thought you meant…”

            “You thought wrong. Get your pants open dammit.” He released Lance’s face. “And get rid of your shirt.” He sat up to finish getting his own pants and underwear off, kicking them across the room. Lance’s shirt flew over him to land on the floor. He rolled back on top of his boyfriend.

            “Hey, hold on!” he protested. The shirt might be gone, but his pants were barely down past his ass.

            “I’m just getting the lube,” he told him, leaning over to hold his hand out. The wall responded to the hand’s presence and opened the hidden drawer.

            “Well, how am I supposed to get my pants off with you on top of me?”

            “You don’t need your pants off, just open.” Once he had what he wanted, the drawer disappeared back into the wall.

            Lance blinked again and then that damnably hot smirk spread over his face again. “Desperate much, Mullet?”

            “Yes.”

            And then Lance tried to shift them, to roll them over. Keith dropped the lube so he had both hands free to push Lance back down. He leaned down, narrowing his eyes and grinning back at him. “Uh-uh. I didn’t say you get to be on top.”

            Lance’s eyes widened a little. “Okay, if this is what’s going to happen every time you try to teach me how to break a hold, I would like to go on the record as saying tha- …”

            “Shut up,” Keith demanded, and then took possession of Lance’s mouth with his own to make good and sure of it. There was no more talking, just occasional low, throaty moans. He slid his hand down between the waistband of Lance’s briefs and his skin, forcing the underwear lower. He made sure to only barely brush the hardening length of his lover’s erection, even when Lance raised his hips and tried to get more of himself into Keith’s hand. That just made getting the briefs down easier, and he was glad to take advantage of that while he avoided the insistent offering (for now).

            Keith had to stop kissing Lance, regrettably, sitting up to catch his breath. “…that I am perfectly okay with this,” Lance finished his previous statement. Keith rolled his eyes and reached for the lube again.

            “Just shut up and lay still,” he told him.

            Lance, of course, chose to take that as a challenge, running his hands up Keith’s torso, pushing the tight black t-shirt ahead of them. Keith dropped the lube back to the mattress and grabbed hold of Lance’s hands, pressing them into the mattress. He moved forward to pin his arms against his sides with his own knees, sitting on Lance’s chest. “If you’re going to be difficult about it, this is what happens.”

            Lance just grinned at him. Satisfied that Lance wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything he didn’t want him to do, Keith retrieved the lube and slicked up his fingers. “Lance.”

            “Hm?” He was looking innocent. This was normally something that worried Keith. He had other things on his mind right now.

            “I want you to look at me while I prep myself. Right in the eyes. DO NOT look away.”

            “Well, gee, twist my arm, why don’t you?”

            Keith couldn’t help snorting, but he leaned down a little more. “Look at me,” he whispered. And Lance did. This was a challenge that was easier for Lance than it was for Keith, as he slid a finger into himself, still watching those impossibly blue eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed, eyelids fluttering, almost closing, until he remembered to keep them open.

            “That’s the idea.”

            “No, it’s not that. It’s…” He sucked in a breath. “Every time I look into your eyes, it’s like I realize all over again that I’ve never really known what blue is before you.” Red bloomed in Lance’s cheeks and he tried to roll his head to the side. “DON’T LOOK AWAY,” Keith reminded him, and Lance’s gaze jerked back to his own. “Your eyes are the definition of blue to me.”

            He applied more lube to his hand, slid in a second finger and sucked in a shuddering breath. He licked his lips. Beneath him, Lance’s chest was heaving. “Jeeze, Keith. What’s gotten into you?”

            “You, soon.”

            Lance muttered something in Spanish and rolled his eyes.

            “I’ve never known anyone like you,” he continued. He had to pause occasionally for a moan as he worked his fingers into himself. “You piss me off. You egg me on and I act like a bratty kid around you. But those _eyes_ … fuck, Lance, your eyes just… just pierce me.”

            “Shot through the heart and I’m to blame?” Lance said, breathing still ragged.

            “Something like that.” He pulled his hand away, re-lubed and sat up, reaching back until he found what he needed. He made his hand a tight fist, situated over the tip of Lance’s cock, and only loosened his grip as much as he had to as he moved his hand down. Lance groaned at the tight grip descending his shaft and arched his hips a little.

            He moaned Keith’s name and licked his lips and Keith just watched him react to the slick hand, a little half-smile on his face. Lance let his head roll back and his eyes finally close, mouth open for wordless sighs and exclamations. Keith released when he hit the base of Lance’s cock rather than tug his way back up, so he could get more lube. This time he just used two fingers, up and down the length, teasing the head.

            “Keith,” Lance panted.

            Keith just grinned viciously down at him and made his touches lighter still.

            Lance growled – sending the hairs on the back of Keith’s neck up – and sat up as best he could. With Keith sitting on his chest, he couldn’t move much more than his head and shoulders, but he realized almost too late that that was enough for what Lance had in mind. Because Keith hadn’t been kidding when he said he needed Lance, and it showed in his own hard erection laying against Lance’s collarbone.

            Lance slid his mouth onto the head of Keith’s cock. He stopped moving his hand entirely because the wet heat surrounding him was so unexpected. The rest of him felt cold in comparison, and he instinctively bucked his hips towards the heat source. Lance opened his eyes, and Keith could see the smirk in them, even if his love’s lips were otherwise occupied.

            He combed his other hand – the one still dry – into Lance’s hair. Lance curled his tongue around him and sucked him in just a little deeper. He resumed jerking Lance’s cock, giving up the pretense that this was just “preparation.” Lance’s whole mouth vibrated with a repressed groan, and Keith nearly lost it right there. “OhJesusFUCK,Lance.” He couldn’t even try to take a breath in between those words; they tumbled out of his mouth together.

            The heat disappeared. “Language,” Lance scolded him.

            “Fuck, I need you so badly.”

            “Well, there’s not much I can do about that at the moment,” he reminded him, arching his hips up once before settling them back down against the mattress. “You keep saying that, but then you sit there, pinning me, and start teasing me. So either stop lying or start trying.”

            Keith snorted once. “You drive me nuts, you know that?”

            “You love me,” Lance said confidently, laying back down to smile up at him.

            “Yeah, I do,” he agreed. He moved back down Lance’s body and took hold of his cock again. “Ready?”

            “Just do it, Mullet.”

            Keith had to tear his eyes away from Lance to see to his alignment. He licked his lips in anticipation and then slowly guided his love into him.

            This engendered Keith’s favorite sound ever: when Lance was really feeling it, when the pleasure was really strong for him, he made this sort of whimpery moan. The whimpering part was high, but the moaning parts were low and guttural, and his voice fluctuated between the two. It was almost like a drug to Keith, like he could feel that sound rushing through his veins, awakening every nerve ending into exquisite bliss. He loved seeing Lance surrender to that ecstasy. He loved knowing that he was the one making Lance sound like that.

            Keith bit his own lip to keep quiet as Lance made That Sound; only after it had run its course and he had his cock almost buried to the hilt in him did he let out his own groan of satisfaction. He truly needed this.

            He leaned down to kiss Lance, somewhat sloppily. But Lance – whose hands had been freed when Keith moved – took hold of his face and corrected their positioning for a proper, deep, intense kiss. And when Lance finally released him, he smiled softly at him for just a moment before sitting back up again.

            He pushed himself back up, then let himself sink down slowly. Lance tried to sit up and Keith pushed him back down with one hand. “Uh-uh. You stay there.” He locked eyes with him again.

            Lance didn’t try again to get up. His hands went to Keith’s hips, helping to stabilize him. Lance rose himself up to meet Keith’s body with perfect timing. They didn’t have to look anywhere else but in each other’s eyes to know when and what to do. Lance was whispering vehement Spanish and his eyes were still that wonderful hyper-blue that Keith could never get enough of.

            “Lance,” Keith panted, skin getting slick with exertion, “Lance, I swear to GOD, you are so perfect.” Lance didn’t seem to have breath to respond, so Keith pushed on, getting the words out between gasping breaths. “So perfect for me. Just for me. Ah, fuck… it’s like we were meant to fit together. In every way. Every… Way… shit.” What had Shiro recommended? Flight vector calculations. He wanted this to last as long as possible; he didn’t want to be overcome with his own climax and miss Lance’s.

            But then Lance took hold of him. “Don’t calculate,” he told him, stroking his cock. “Just let it happen.”

            “I want…”

            “I’m close,” Lance promised him. “After all that teasing you did? I am _so_ close.”

            “What do you need?” Because he was calculating, because vector trajectory was the only thing keeping him in check.

            “You,” Lance panted. “More.”

            Anyone else might have interpreted that to mean “harder” or “faster” or “deeper.” But Keith knew exactly what Lance meant. “You’re mine, Lance,” he managed, gazes still hot and locked on each other. “And I’m yours. Oh God, I’m Yours, Lance, I will never not need you.” Fuck the astrophysics. “You fill this hole in me I never even knew I had. You comple- complete me… Lance…”

            There was a bloom of heat, within and without, and then there was nothing but scraping for air, collapsing onto Lance’s chest, arms wrapping around him, fingers combing his hair. He croaked out Lance’s name again, throat dry. He swallowed hard and gulped oxygen.

            “You complete me, too,” Lance told him. “But I need you to get off now so I can breathe.”

            Keith laughed weakly and rolled to the side. They both laid there, staring up at the ceiling and breathing.

            “Yeah, okay, I’m glad we weren’t on the training deck for that,” Lance finally declared.

            Keith snorted once, and then couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of him. He rolled towards Lance, burying his face against his love’s neck as he let himself laugh. He could practically feel Lance’s smug satisfaction at the response, but he let him have this victory.

            When he finally settled down, he pushed himself up to point out, “You realize we do still have to work on hold-breaking.”

            Lance groaned. “Not right now.”

            “No, not right now,” he agreed. “Now is for _not_ breaking holds.” He slid his arm across Lance’s chest and smiled. “Not ever. I won’t ever let go of you.”

            Lance leaned up to kiss his nose. “Right back atcha.”

 

           


End file.
